


Exile

by simplysaid



Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-14
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-15 23:54:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,877
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29444403
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplysaid/pseuds/simplysaid
Summary: You thought Bucky was dead. Everyone told you he was dead. Everyone told you to move on and stop living in the past. But now he's back and you can't help but tell yourself that you gave up on him.-I can see you starin', honeyLike he's just your understudyLike you'd get your knuckles bloody for meSecond, third, and hundredth chancesBalancin' on breaking branchesThose eyes add insult to injury
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader, Steve Rogers/Reader
Kudos: 8





	1. 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is an idea that's been floating around in my head for a HOT minute. It reads well as a one shot but could very well continue if anyone has any interest in reading more.

It had been nearly 3 years since the day you had watched him walk out the front door, off to fight far away in some sandy desert that you couldn’t find on a map. It had been nearly 1000 days since you had felt his big hands on your waist, his strong arms around you. You made the 2 officers that were sent to inform you repeat themselves 3 times before you nodded in recognition and comprehension. 

James Buchanan Barnes was no longer missing in action.

The Army psychologist (he had strangely told you to call him by his first name, Bruce) assured you that your fear was valid. It had been so long. You had been urged to move on and let his memory rest. It wasn’t healthy for you to cling to the possibility of his return. Bruce told you with a solemn look in his deep brown eyes that James understood that things in your life had changed in his absence. He had refused, however, to be the one that told James just how much had changed. James had asked for you repeatedly. Bruce made it clear that it was important in James recovery that you be the one to help him reacclimate.

Your fingers tangled anxiously in the fur at the neck of the German Sheperd sitting at your feet. That was another of Bruce’s ideas. Chewie - named for his obsessive chewing as a puppy - was just a ball of fluff when James first left. He brought him back to your very small apartment a few months before he left to help you feel safer when he was gone. He had smiled so big when he handed you Chewie, telling you how he planned to train him into a guard dog. He and his team were being deployed more and more frequently. He wanted to know that you were safe when he was gone.

Your eyes wandered around the room you were told to wait in. It might have been an office at one point. Now it was empty, save for a few metal chairs pushed against the walls. No one thought it would be a good idea for you to be present at his homecoming press conference but you were requested to wait in this small room so that he could see you as soon as it was over.

The door opened slowly and Bruce poked his head in, one hand running over his curly dark hair. He had been so kind to you through this whole ordeal that it was hard not to feel a little more calm when you saw him. He said your name quietly and gave you a small smile. “Are you ready?”

You nodded 3 times quickly. “Of course,” a complete lie.

Bruce stepped back as the door was pushed open. James stepped into the room slowly, long fingers entwined behind his back. 

You stood up suddenly, a gasp stuck in your throat. You had gone all this time with only pictures of him and memories that seemed to fade faster and faster with each passing second. Having him here in front of you, and in one piece, was too much to process. “Oh, Bucky,” you breathed. 

He seemed bigger than he was in your memories. He closed the distance between you in two short steps, towering over you. He took your face between his hands, blue eyes searching every centimeter. You couldn’t see past the tears filling your eyes. He sighed your name, his thumb wiping away a tear that ran down your cheek.

Suddenly you were in his arms, pulled to stand on your tiptoes in your sneakers. Your face buried in his expansive chest, you took a deep breath. He smelled just like you remembered in your dreams; warmth, faded leather, and a summertime fire.

“You feel,” he began, softly and a little unsure, “smaller than I remember.” 

A strangled sob escaped your throat. You didn’t want to tell him about the months you spent on the bathroom floor, clutching the phone and wishing for a miracle. You barely saw the sun, let alone remembered to eat. He’d been through so much. You couldn’t put that on him.

Keeping your arms wrapped around his waist, you leaned back so you could see his face. “I missed you so much.”

There was a long pause as you stared at each other. You looked, really looked, at him. His body looked stronger than you remembered, but not in a way that you could fully name. The muscles in his arms were evident even through the white dress shirt he was wearing. His hair was longer than you remembered; his eyes looked darker. Your mouth opened slowly in horror as your gaze settled on the long scar that raked down the left side of his face. You lifted your right hand and gently drew your index finger down along the ragged skin. Whatever you imagined had happened to him was incalculably worse than you had thought possible.

That scar changed everything you remembered about him. Bucky looked dangerous, haunted, and so very sad.

He grabbed your hand and pressed the inside of your palm to his lips. His warm breath on your skin sent a shiver down your spine. “I thought about doing this every day, Doll. Every night. I never stopped trying to come back and do this again, feel you again.” You watched him swallow hard, his dark eyebrows knitting together. “Please believe that.”

The guilt slammed into your chest, somehow more painful than before. You had given up, though. You had listened to everyone around you and left Bucky Barnes in your past. You had tried to heal. But now he is in front of you, whole and holding you in his arms. How could you do this to him?

“Buck,” you began, your fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt. You were still holding on to each other. “Things changed while you were away.” You heard soft footsteps in the doorway and were certain that Bruce was there, waiting to help pick up the pieces of what you were about to break.

Before you could continue, Chewie groaned and pawed at your jean clad leg.

“Chewie?!” Bucky let go of you and dropped to one knee, his hand still resting on your thigh as you stood next to him. “I was hoping you got big and strong.” There was a flicker of pure, unadulterated joy in his eyes as he looked at the German Sheperd and then at you. “Does he still chew on everything?”

You surprised yourself with the gleeful laugh that burst out of your mouth. “Yes! He still destroys the kitchen garbage can at least once a month.”

Bruce left you two to talk for long enough that you moved from the middle of the room to a pair of chairs. Bucky pulled you to the chair right next to him so your thighs are pressed together. He asks about the dog and your job and if you could bring him a bowl of soup from that cafe downtown. It’s warm and safe and almost like he never left. 

Almost.

Bruce stepped back into the room, a serene smile on his face. “Sergeant Barnes?”

Bucky looked concerned to see him so soon. “Already?” His hand rested on your knee, long thumb tracing lazy circles there. This was only an initial meeting. Bruce had told you that Bucky was being kept on the base while he recuperated. He turned back to face you and looked, if you weren’t mistaken, a little bashful. “Can I,” he took a deep breath and cleared his throat. “Can I kiss you?”

The guilt came again. If you spoke, you worried you might ruin everything. So you nodded. You wanted nothing more than to feel him like that again. 

He leaned forward and gently brushed his lips across yours. “I never stopped loving you, Sunshine.”

-

Bruce walked you out a back entrance of the airport, matching his pace to yours. “You did well, Miss.” From the corner of your gaze, you could tell he was polishing his glasses on the hem of his faded button down. It seemed a needless habit that kept his hands busy. 

For a long beat the only sound was the scuffing of your shoes and Chewie’s paws on the linoleum floor. “How do I tell him that I don’t live in that same apartment? How do I tell him that I had to sell his car because looking at it gave me panic attacks?” You pushed the metal double doors open and walked out into a nearly empty parking lot. The sunset made everything feel neon. Too bright. 

“How am I supposed to tell him that I gave up and found someone else?” The last few words threatened to send you into another crying spell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Bruce, instead you stopped walking and stared at the pavement. He had miraculously kept this meeting under wraps. There were no media waiting to capture the devastation of the girlfriend left behind. 

You could feel him watch you, hands in his pockets. “He will understand that things changed while he was gone. He will understand that you have changed.” You listened to Bruce as you lifted your eyes from the pavement to find that kind man who had agreed to live in Bucky’s shadow. He was Bucky’s best friend. You put eachother back together. “He spent a long time in captivity and is slowly beginning to learn about the world he is coming back too,” Bruce continued.

Steve Rogers was waiting for you in that parking lot, lean form resting against the hood of your car. You knew this was hard on him, waiting for you out here while you were in there with Bucky. The corners of his mouth turned upward as he waved. You were going to hurt them both, him and Bucky. You just knew it.

Bruce touched your elbow so that you had to look at him. “The first thing he asked for when we got him back was you. I need you to help me help him. You are,” he paused, “very important to him.”

You watched Steve open the passenger door of the car before finding your voice. “He’s very important to me too, Dr. Banner. I’ll do whatever he needs.”


	2. 2

The panic attack came on fast and furious. “I thought he was dead, Steve. I thought he was dead.” You hunched forward in the seat of the car, hands tightly gripping your knees. You had managed to keep it together until Steve eased the SUV out of the parking lot. “I thought he was dead. Everyone told me he was dead.”

“Take a deep breath,” Steve murmured, hand reaching across the center console to gently rub your back. “We’re a block away from home.”

“I can’t,” another gasping breath, “I shouldn’t have gone.” You shook your head. What a stupid idea. To think that you would be able to look at Bucky and keep a grip on the tenuous peace you had constructed the last 3 years. 

You could feel the car came to a stop in the driveway of the modest home you shared. It was one you’d found together; it held nothing of Bucky or the life you’d had with him. You kept your eyes closed, trying to slowly breathe through it like the grief counselor taught you before. 

You could hear Steve open his car door and move deftly to your side. He opened your door and kneeled down next to you, massive arms encircling your body. “Keep breathing, Doll. You didn’t do anything wrong.” His pressed a kiss into your hair, sending his warm breath down your neck. “You’re safe.” 

You don’t know how long you sat like that, entwined in the passenger seat of your car. It wasn’t until Chewie nudged his nose under your rigid right arm that you were pulled out of your reverie. You sat up slowly, looking sheepishly towards Steve. “I’m sorry, Steve.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he replied softly, tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ears. Something flashed across his face for a beat. Something that he wanted to hide. Steve was in pain. “Let’s get inside and get some dinner.”

He stood and helped you to your feet. A strong arm looped around your midsection. “You want to order something? Chinese?”

“Don’t forget the extra egg rolls,” you murmured, head swaying toward his massive chest. Steve always seemed to know when you needed him to step in and take control. Steve was the one who called the movers when you left then base. He found a storage unit and moved all of Bucky’s things when you couldn’t bare to look.

He directed you over the threshold; Chewie trailed happily behind. “I could never forget the egg rolls.” He feigned being scandalized at the very idea. “Not for my best girl.”

You smiled, kicking your sneakers off onto the mat near the door. “Extra sweet and sour sauce too?” The house was pleasantly cool compared to the warm night. 

Steve locked the door, his smile matching yours. “Oh, I don’t know. You might be sweet enough.” 

You laughed. The first real and genuine laugh since that knock on your door about Bucky. “You always say that.” 

“I always mean it.”

The routine of domesticity was soothing the ache in your soul. You fed Chewie while Steve tidied up the common areas of the house. The house was small but it’s open concept made it easy to steal glances at each other. As if on cue, you met him in the mouth of the short hallway that led to your bedroom and bathroom. “I’m going to shower. Join me?” Steve murmured, twirling a lock of your hair around his index finger. 

He wanted to keep an eye on you, you could sense that. He was worried about you and to what depths your brain would throw you if left to your own devices. He was always worried about that, especially when it came to Bucky. But you didn’t care. You wanted to be near him and pretend that things were as they’d always been with him. So you nodded. 

You two would do this sometimes, shower together, so it was comforting in its normality. You undressed each other without speaking, basking in the rush of the shower water as it heated. 

Steve pulled you to him and gently turned you so your back was facing him. He unhooked your bra with a simple flick of his right wrist and let it fall to the time floor. 

“My neck is killing me,” you sighed absently. The sound of steaming water and the feel of his massive hands on your bare skin was enough to keep your mind firmly planted in the moment. 

Steve placed his palms on your hips and slowly slid them up your back, thumbs pressing into the dips and divots of your back. “I can tell,” he murmured. 

The two of you maneuvered under the stream of hot water. It was always around this time that you were struck with just how massive Steve really was. He was probably intimidating, you thought. A stranger might see him and cross the street. To you? Steve meant safety. 

You let your hands explore his body aimlessly, leaving a soapy trail down his arms and over his fingers. It was so easy to lose yourself in this process, bringing your index finger back up to his chin. You traced your finger along his jawline and back down his chest, between his pecs. You reveled in the way his muscles contracted under your touch, the way his breath hitched when you stopped at the thatch of hair just above his cock. 

“You haven’t,” he swallowed hard once. “You haven’t even washed your hair, doll.” His blue eyes were dark through the shower steam. He had been watching you for longer than you realized. 

“Mmm,” you murmured, pressing into him. It was so easy when you were with him like this. “Forgot.” 

He laughed, leaning down to kiss your wet lips. “Guess we’re eating cold egg rolls tonight.”

—

You woke up a moment before the phone rang. It was warm, but comfortable, wedged between Steve and Chewie. “Don’t answer it,” he muttered, voice rasping with sleep. He shifted slightly, right arm wrapped around your naked torso. 

“Not mine,” you half yawned and half whined. “Yours.”

He groaned, burying his bearded face in the curve of your neck. “No one should be calling me this early.” He ranted as the phone continued to ring. “I’m in bed with my girl. We’re naked. There better be some sort of international crisis for a phone call this early.” He continued to complain as he released his hold on you me body and blindly grabbed behind him for his cellphone. 

You kept your eyes closed as you heard the distinct sound of his thumb hitting the phone screen. “Listen, this better be-“ Steve sat up suddenly, voice softening. “Bucky?”

Your eyes flew open, heart thudding like a jackhammer in your chest. No more pretending.


End file.
